Succubus Lips

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Succubus Lips Page 15

by Lina Jubilee


  “You want my jerkin again?” he asked as he padded over, fastening the bottom of the item of clothing in question.

  The tip of my tongue darted out to slide against my lips as I shook my head and looked away.

  He took my face in one hand then, his grip firm around my chin as he turned me back to face him. “Don’t look at me like you want me to fuck you again, then look away. I won’t be teased without satisfaction.”

  Was it that obvious? Fucking hell.

  His grip loosened as his lips dove to meet mine, only they stopped before we came in contact. He pulled back a little.

  “What do you say?” His voice was stern.

  My throat went dry, my mouth still just a little hard to control with his hand on my chin, even if it’d loosened.

  “If you don’t kiss me, you might not have enough power to get us out of here.” I spoke through gritted teeth. My hands balled into fists and I ground them into the wall behind me, daring myself to try to let my libido run wild with this arrogant ecoterrorist again.

  His eyes gleamed then. “You are a stubborn one,” he said. Then his lips moved closer to my ear, his husky voice lowering to a whisper. “The most satisfying to break.”

  His other hand slid down the front of my pants, a finger charging straight between the lips of my pussy. Startled, my eyes flitted to look at what he was doing down there and I cried out as his finger danced, but it was more like a moan.

  The hand on my chin squeezed—not at all painfully, but firmly, directing my gaze sharply back into his eyes. “What do you say?”

  “Please,” I said quietly, hating myself for loving this.

  “Please what?” he asked, a finger jutting up inside me.

  “Please kiss me,” I said, groaning as my knees went weak. In and out. In an out. Just near the entrance. He stared at me, clearly expecting more. “Please…” I said. “Your Majesty.”

  He did then, shifting his full hand inside my pants to move his thumb in a teasing circle over my clit as another finger joined the first one up my pussy.

  I felt the stirrings of an orgasm as he finger-fucked me. Deeper, harder—teasing my pleasure point harder and harder. It was more distracting than the shift of power flowing between us as his lips nibbled mine greedily, his tongue dancing around mine.

  Oh, shit. This was giving him more of a boost than I’d intended.

  I gasped, taking my face from his. He let it go, dropping his grip on my chin.

  His fingers withdrew and he took a careful step back and rubbed his forearm over his mouth before licking his fingers. “Pure starlight,” he said. Then he flinched, his chest hitching as he went unnaturally stiff.

  It took me until then to remember his injury—dark blood stained the bandage.

  He lifted his chin. “All right, starlight,” he said, acting as if he hadn’t just finger-banged me near a perilous cliff and left me clutching the wall. “Let’s see what I—what we together—can do.”

  He motioned for me to step back and I did on jittery legs.

  He raised his palm out upward and the vine he produced went soaring—larger, stronger, faster than before.

  His laugh echoed through the cavern as he slammed to his knees, startling me. He hollered into the misty air, his cries ringing like a wild animal’s. Then he closed his palm and stared up at his creation—the vine must have hitched itself somewhere up out of sight. He tentatively aimed his palm at it again and instead of another vine shooting out, the dangling one swung back and forth, as if a giant’s hand had swatted it.

  He shouted again, jumping to his feet and running to me, sweeping me up into his arms. Even the flash of pain that crossed his face as he lifted me a few inches off the ground and spun me around wasn’t long-lived as he peppered kisses all over my chin, my neck, my clavicle.

  What in the ever-loving hell…? So much for his royalty routine.

  But as he lowered me a little, his hands sliding down to cup my buttocks, his lips greedily slamming against mine, I felt my pussy become wet entirely. Dominating or exhilarated, this fucking otherworlder could turn me on like a faucet.

  He finally pulled his lips away but wouldn’t let go of his greedy grip on my buttocks. “I can control it,” he said.

  “What…?” I asked, and my stomach sank.

  There was no containing the grin on his face. “With your power, I can control it. Before we had to aim with our hands, but now…” He shifted to lower my feet to the ground and turned one palm toward the cavern opening as the other gripped me tighter against him. The vine shot toward us and I cried out, but he laughed as it slid gently around our waists, acting like a belt tying us together. “I’ve got you,” he said, his voice loud and forceful. “And I don’t know if I ever want to let go.”

  Before I could reply, he waved his hand and the vine tugged on us both, whipping us out to the canyon at a pace outrunning the shriek that escaped my mouth at the sudden movement.

  The vine had carried us up the cliff in a flash, depositing us safely at the top before I could even think about what was happening. I’d pounded on Alarik’s chest then, unleashing a string of curses that he was never to do that without warning again, but his lips took mine before I could finish my protest and we were off, bounding through the forest on his newly-formed vines, moving almost at the speed of sound, every short break in the action punctuated by another kiss before I could steel myself up to complain. At last we’d arrived before two elves who stood at attention on either side of a gaping, door-sized hole.

  “Your Majesty!” they said in unison, dropping to one knee.

  “You startled us—” began one.

  “We heard you’d perished,” said the other.

  Alarik, true to his word that he didn’t want to release me, waved one hand lazily at them as he guided me through the hole, his arm wrapped tightly around my waist. “Well, obviously, you’ve been misinformed.” He turned to one. “Bring Xerxes to the throne room immediately.”

  The two guards drew to their feet, their weight shifting awkwardly in place.

  “Your Majesty,” said one. “Xerxes is in the throne room—”

  Alarik didn’t wait to hear more. He stormed ahead, shifting his hand from my waist to my hand, tugging me after him. I was so keen to not stumble that I didn’t notice at first, but as we made our way up half a flight of wooden stairs that looked almost like they’d grown out of a winding tree trunk, I tugged back as my mouth went slack.

  My head shook slowly as I took in this elvish kingdom. It existed in symbiosis with the trees, dwellings carved into tree trunks with thriving leaves overhead, a stream weaving through the town. Little shops had been made out of tree trunks and with roofs that resembled giant mushrooms grown five thousand times too large. The town went back as far as I could see, dwellings alit with candlelight, the elves moving to and fro, stopping to laugh with their neighbors or fill up their baskets with goods.

  “Right,” said Alarik behind me, clearing his throat. He took a careful step back to join me on the landing I’d found myself on without even fully taking in the surroundings at my feet. I couldn’t look away.

  He moved closer and planted a kiss atop my head. “Welcome to the heart of Nelia, starlight,” he said. “Welcome home.”

  I was too flabbergasted to argue.

  His hand fell from mine, and I felt him turn beside me, his voice directed elsewhere. “Tianah,” he said. “Perfect. Come here, please.”

  “Your Majesty,” said a soft voice behind me. I finally turned to see a beautiful brown elf woman—small and willowy-thin and oozing femininity—curtsey before giving me a clearly puzzled onceover. “We heard—”

  “You all heard wrong,” Alarik snapped. Then he sighed and put a hand on the small of my back, directing me toward her. “I have business to discuss with Xerxes,” he said, gentler this time. “Please get her clean and into something warmer.” He sized me up and down. “But not too warm,” he added, grinning at me.

  Rolling my
eyes, I let my hair whap across my face as my head moved back and forth. “I’m going with you,” I said. “I’m here to see Roulette.”

  “Get cleaned up first,” he said, taking a step toward the rest of the staircase. “Then we’ll discuss our future conquest.”

  My blood ran cold, reminding me I had no business boosting this cocky asshole’s powers.

  But damn, did his royal ass look fine as he climbed the stairs away from me.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Elvish wear was luxuriously comfortable. I supposed I could have come to that conclusion when borrowing Alarik’s jerkin, but away from the biting wind and fresh from a steaming hot bath, I could finally appreciate the soft material of the form-fitting earth-tone dress. The velvety material melted into my skin like I was wearing nothing at all without feeling tight and constricting like Lila’s too-small outfit. I tapped my feet impatiently as Tianah moved a brush through my thick hair, then insisted on weaving what appeared to be dried, silver twigs through the tresses.

  “I appreciate the help, but I really need to see my friend,” I said at last as she wove in the fifth or sixth twig. “The other human?”

  But Tianah hadn’t had much to say at all the past hour or so. Just enough to relay instructions.

  “His Majesty will send for you when he’s ready,” she replied.

  Sighing, I sunk into the chair. The seat and back were woven with what appeared to be dried grass, the frame made of branches, any jabbing edge worn down and smoothed.

  Zander? I tried again. But naturally, there was no reply. Tianah kept weaving her twigs through and I zoned out a little.

  “His Majesty awaits,” said a new voice some time later. I jumped in place.

  Tianah stepped back and bowed her head to the newcomer—a handsome elf man who looked familiar, but then again, there wasn’t one who wasn’t handsome.

  He stared at me expectantly and I stood. “Thank you,” I said to Tianah, though I’d much rather have been scouring for Roulette than getting pampered. To be fair, I sure felt a hell of a lot better after getting pampered. I’d been sore in so many ways, and the warm waters had eased the tension in my muscles.

  The elf who’d summoned me didn’t speak as he led me through the Nelian village, up to the staircase where I’d parted from Alarik and farther and farther up what I realized to be a giant tree. A giant freaking tree encircled this whole damn village.

  Gasping, I stopped to look at it from above once more. The man stopped several stairs above me. “Your Excellency,” he said, and I had no idea where he’d gotten that title from. “Please.” He gestured upward.

  Sighing, I tore my eyes away and followed after him. “What’s your name?” I asked because why the hell not? I’d already fucked an enemy king. May as well get to know a few others.

  “Normak, Your Excellency,” he replied. His jaw twitched just slightly.

  “‘Aurora’ is fine,” I replied.

  “Not so long as you are the royal consort of choice.”

  The… what? “What do you mean?” What had Alarik said to these elves in the hour or so we’d been apart?

  Normak clasped his hands together and said nothing more. We walked in silence a bit longer, the melodic trickle of the river below at least keeping the quiet from being excruciating. At last we reached the top of the staircase, where the gaps in the tree branches grew wider and the whole thing plateaued to what seemed like a cavernous room, though the floor and walls were all worn and uneven, as much a part of the tree as anything. The back wall was lined with elves at attention, the branches making up the ceiling latticed to let wisps of sunlight inside. I wondered if it was lit by moonlight at night.

  “Your Majesty,” said Normak, taking a knee before the wooden seat at the center of the back of the room.

  Snapping to attention, I found Alarik seated there, shirtless, his arm unwrapped and being held gingerly by…

  “Roulette!” I shrieked, running past Normak to throw my arms around her.

  Her eyes widened as she looked between Alarik and me, but she said nothing.

  Frowning, I leaned back to better take her in. She was dressed in elven clothing like I was, even down to the twig highlights in her hair—only hers were golden, and they popped out among her fiery red tresses and dark roots like gold dust.

  “Starlight,” came Alarik’s voice from beside us. A sharp intake of breath from him drew my attention as Roulette released her hold on his arm, his wound healed.

  He drunk me in with a thirst that needed quenching—despite the gallons he’d metaphorically drunk the night before. The heat rising to my cheeks was too damn distracting right then in a room full of other people. My hand found Roulette’s and I squeezed, hoping she could pick up on some of my confidence—that I had a plan. Sort of.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered to me. “I didn’t intend to tell them about you, but something—”

  Setting my jaw, I shook my head. “You couldn’t help it,” I whispered back, but that was as far as our conversation got.

  Alarik stood then and opened his arms toward us both. I slunk back, thinking he might embrace us, but he turned and spoke to the room, his arms still open wide. “And these two humans—these Natches—my citizenry, are how we will accomplish our goal on Earth.”

  “You would use a defiler to atone for defiling?” asked someone from behind Roulette and me. I whipped around along with Rou, and she instinctively pulled me backward toward the wall as a handsome, dark-skinned elf strode toward Alarik from the corner of the room, flanked on either side by soldier elves. It took me a second to recognize the tall, muscular elf—that Xerxes, who’d confronted Alarik in the forest. I searched around for Alanna but didn’t find her, though I remembered quickly that Roulette had just used her powers, so she must not have been nearby. I knew from the incident downtown that her nullification powers had a range. Xerxes crossed his arms and jutted his chin toward Alarik. “I suppose it has some poetry to it, but I caution against relying on the enemy in such a manner.”

  Forcing a laugh, Alarik held his arms to either side and two elf servants seemed to take that as their cue, stepping out from the shadows to drape their king in a new jerkin. This one was similar to the other, like those the soldiers wore, earth-tone and form-fitting, but it had silver threads woven throughout, an echo of my hair. He nodded at them after one finished fastening the front and pulled first on one sleeve and then another. “I have promised victory, and I will deliver it.”

  Xerxes looked over his shoulder, then turned around, gesturing casually to either side and then resting his hands above his belt. “And you have promised us such before. I do not see a parade of triumph about to begin in your honor, Alarik.”

  Narrowing his eyes, Alarik took a seat again and curled a finger around the edge of the armrest. “You’ve made no secret that you think you could do it better,” he said. “Be grateful I don’t have you banished from my sight for your insolence. Were it not for some misguided affection on the part of my sister—”

  Xerxes took a bold, quick step forward. “Were it not for the love of that same sister, I’d have ousted you years ago.”

  Alarik snapped up to his feet, his nostrils flaring. “You would dare? After the mercy I just showed you for—what did you call it? Keeping my throne warm?” He turned to some of the elves beside him—they’d already stepped forward.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” said Xerxes. “Not if you want to see your sister ever again.”

  Raising a hand in the air, Alarik stopped the movements of his guards with one gesture. “Where is she?”

  Xerxes rocked back on his heels. “You’re the one who never wants her around. You should thank me for keeping her out of the village.”

  “I only ever said that because…” Alarik’s clenched fists shook at his side. “If you’ve hurt her—”

  “I wouldn’t,” said Xerxes, his voice going quiet.

  Letting out a clipped laugh, Alarik smiled. “Then what
do I have to fear from you?”

  “Just because I wouldn’t hurt her doesn’t mean I’ll let her go free,” he said. He pointed to the two men behind him, who hadn’t moved to subdue him when the others had. “Nor does it mean you can count on every Nelian to aid you. Some are more than ready for a change in leadership.”

  Alarik’s glare to the elves behind Xerxes was cutting. “Until I have children of my own, Alanna is my heir—not you. I don’t care if you fuck her. You’ll never be king.”

  “Children of your own?” The belly-shaking laughter Xerxes offered did nothing to release the clear tension in the cord in Alarik’s neck. Roulette’s hand went clammy and she squeezed my palm harder as Xerxes took a few steps toward us. “Do you intend to have children with this ‘consort’ of yours? This filthy human consort?”

  Alarik moved between Xerxes and me, and the guards on the king’s side took a few steps toward us. “You stay away from her.”

  Of course. Consort. Me. Maybe if I told him I couldn’t have kids, he’d—

  Alanna’s powers. My fingers tingled at the idea of putting Wade and Jayden’s theory to the test, of staying around his sister for nine months and then—

  “What are you so afraid of?” asked Xerxes, a thin, false smile appearing on his face. “I’ve no interest in your human animal.”

  “Then. Stay. Away.” Alarik planted his legs wide as he raised a trembling hand.

  “I just worry,” began Xerxes, taking a step back and seeming to speak to the room at large, “what danger the king could be putting us all in by keeping these women hostage? Does he honestly think they’ll willingly assist us in reforming their planet?” He turned his nose down on Alarik. “How much time do we need to waste on a slowly-dying rock when we have Nelia?”

  Alarik crossed the space between them in a flash, shoving at Xerxes’ chest. “You’re the one who told me to invade,” he said. “You’re the one who told me my reign was time—”

  Hands in the air, Xerxes shook his head. “You misunderstood me, brother.”

 

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